Left 4 Dead: The End?
by A Devious Mind
Summary: It is what the title says it is. OC credit to their rightful owners.
1. The Final Stand, First

**All characters are property of their rightful owners. You know who you are. Left 4 Dead is property of Valve and Steam.**

**Rated T and only T because I know for a fact that you're going to read it anyway.**

**A/R: You know how whenever you play L4D, you always see half eaten carcasses littering the floor, but in the game, the infected don't even bite you? This is my explanation as to how this happens. It is not a new idea. Some of you told me it's so old I shouldn't even put it in here. I did it anyway.**

**A/R2: "See That one Coming?" is a game the survivors have invented to keep themselves amused, and also to heighten their senses. You never know what's coming for you…**

**A/R3: Infected are normal L4D infected, and Zombies are, of course, traditional zombies. The kind you shoot in the head.**

"_The Wizards of Blow it out Your Ass!" Alan, Two and a Half Men_

(~**^^Left4Dead^^**~)

Jack ran down the dirt road, sweating vigorously. He stopped briefly next to a tree, not daring to hold off any longer. He was in a dimly lit patch of woods, with the ever-present morning mist swirling around the trees. Dew had covered everything from the needles on the pine trees to the combat jacket on Jack's shoulders, his only protection against the cold besides a thin cotton t-shirt that had gone from white to a slight gray within a week. Over the course of the long hours Jack had been awake, which was a long, long time, he had accumulated problems.

This was not a problem.

It was a big mistake.

Jack took off again, never looking back but always keeping an eye out for the danger that pursued him, growing dangerously close. His sweat and mist covered Ray-Bans obscured his vision. He ripped them off and, along with his black derby, flung them into the trees, never once stopping. He turned towards his destination, a small wooden cabin that had been heavily barricaded. It could easily hold about 20 people. Other than the barricades, it was almost unnoticeable, if not for the large red door with a white arrow pointing towards it.

Jack pumped his legs, trying to go as fast as possible, before the danger caught up with him. For now, it was so close behind, one of the mass swiped out a clawed hand and caught Jack in the shoulder. He grimaced and focused on the red door which had now opened slightly, enough for him to get in. Jack took one last step and dived through the door just as it was slammed closed.

Jack coughed twice, standing up shakily. Ace helped him to his feet. "You're either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid to go out and do that, especially after what happened last time." Jack had his hands on his knees, and he was breathing heavily. "A little… bit of both," he chuckled in between breaths. Sckuyler tossed him his M4. "Lost the SPAS, huh? Figures." Jack rolled his eyes at her and slung his weapon over a chair before sitting down in it and saying, "Alright, how'd the search do?"

"Well, as per usual, you were the last one back. We didn't do too bad this time, though. Seven med kits, twelve bottles of pills, nineteen adrenaline shots, and about fourteen and a half cans of baked beans."

"And a half?" Ace smiled and tossed Jack the can which, of course, had been slashed in half. Jack shrugged and set the piece of tin down on the table. "Any weapons?"

"Nothing except for a small chrome shotgun. Not a lot of ammo, though. A few bandoliers of shells, some 5.56 ammo, .308 bullets, 45ACP rounds, some regular 45 auto rounds, two gun belts for the 50 cal, we can use that for the 50 cal sniper, and a whole lot of 9mm rounds." Jack pulled out his 44. Magnum Desert Eagle and tossed it on the table. "So this is empty for now?"

"I'd say it was." Roy walked into the room, acknowledging the other team leader with a nod. Jack shrugged and holstered a 45 auto, frowning at the slight drop in weight. The feeling passed and he turned to Roy. "I say we should move out soon. We're running low on food and ammo and we can't stay here forever." Roy shook his head. "It's too dangerous outside, what with those new bastards out there. We'll stay here for a little longer, until the horde disperses, then we'll leave." Jack's eyebrows knitted together. "If we stay here, what if they don't disperse? They'll gather around here and wait for us to run out of food and when we come outside, they'll ambush us."

"Zombies aren't that smart, Jack! Not even the regular infected could do that, much less ambush us." Jack scowled. "Then how long should we wait? We only have enough food for three more days, and that's only if we skip a meal a day." Roy scowled at Jack and sat down in a chair, the two glaring at each other from across the table. "We should leave them alone for now," Ace whispered to Sckuyler. She nodded and the two crept out of the room, leaving the two leaders to argue.

Jack and Roy sat staring at each other for a long time. Finally, the war vet sighed. "Look Roy, we'll think of something. We always do. We haven't gotten this far on guesses. Let's just settle this and get back to work. We can't argue all day." Roy nodded and sighed. "We can do this, I'm sure of it." Jack stood up to leave. "Jack? Just… don't die out there." Jack smirked as Dylan walked into the room. "Did I just hear you say you need me, Roy?"

"Fuck you, you didn't hear shit." Jack chuckled as he slapped Dylan across the face. "Did you see that one coming?"

"No, what the hell?" Jack smiled and left the little Hunter with Roy, plopping down on the couch with his M4 and began cleaning it. Ace sat down next to Jack and burped in his face. "See that one coming?" Jack coughed and fell to the floor, holding his throat. Ace chuckled and looked for Dylan, who had now disappeared. Jack jumped back up and picked up his crowbar, ready to bash anyone who approached him.

Dylan walked back upstairs and sat down on his bed, completely bored. He sighed and looked around for something to do.

Jack sat back down on the couch and pulled out his iPod, plugging in his earphones and selecting a random song from the Midnight Riders folder. Jack closed his eyes and listened to the song, completely oblivious to the thunderstorm brewing outside.

Outside, black clouds drifted around the safehouse, encircling it and starting a small drizzle, which quickly morphed into a raging downpour, coating the safehouse with ice-cold water. Thunder boomed as lightning crackled and zapped the trees, starting forest fires that were quickly extinguished by the torrent from the clouds. Infected and Zombies alike roared as hordes began to merge, forming one giant mass of rotting flesh and bodies, which directed their charge towards the only place with shelter inside a forest: the safehouse. And survivors or no survivors, the infected all agreed that that safehouse would be theirs.

Jack was awakened by a slap in the face. He stood up and shoved his iPod into his pocket, picking up his M4 and sticking his crowbar into his sheath on his back. It had become almost a routine, waking up like this and getting ready to move without even knowing what was going on. Jack turned towards Sckuyler and said, "What's going on?" He didn't even hear his own words as they were ripped from his mouth by the wind that was blowing around the room. "It's a thunderstorm! Attracting every infected and zombie around for miles!" she yelled over the sound of the horde's scream. Jack ran for the radio and was flattened to the ground by a table which had been flipped by the gale that was quickly turning their safehouse inside out. Jack picked up the little gray box and grabbed the microphone, shouting, "Kilo 44, this is Kilo 11! We need immediate evac, over!"

"Negative, Kilo 11, the storm is preventing any and all rescue missions, over."

"Kilo 44, where's the nearest base camp?" The army took a while to respond, trying to find a good frequency.

"Base Camp Charlie, located three miles south of you, Kilo 11." Jack brought the radio into the large living room, where the team was huddled around a table filled with medical supplies and ammunition. "Kilo 44, requesting permission to advance to Base Camp Charlie, over!" Once again, it took the army a while to reply. "Kilo 11, I'm transferring you over to General Remington, over." Jack covered his ears as a shrill squeal echoed through the room. Dylan howled in pain, his sensitive Hunter ears taking most of the pain. "Kilo 11, this is General Remington. Miller, is that you?"

"Roger that, General Remington."

"Miller, what the fuck are you doing out there?"

"Sir, I have a group of ten plus survivors here in this safehouse. We're about to be overrun any minute. Requesting permission to move to Base Camp Charlie, over." Jack had to pause and cover his ears once again as the squeal echoed through the room once again.

"Green light, green light! Kilo 11, green light!"

"Roger that, Kilo 44! Over and out!" Jack tucked the radio into his backpack. "Guys, we're moving out!" Roy looked up in disbelief. "In this storm? You're crazy!" Jack shook his head. "We're moving out! There's a base camp three miles from here! We're about to be overrun! We have to go **NOW!**" Jack picked up his M4 and fired at the infected dropping through the hole in the roof, created by a stray bolt of lightning and also the cause of the squeals. Everyone geared up and got ready to leave. Dylan sat on the ground in the fetal position, covering his ears and screaming. Ace grabbed him by his hoodie and wrapped one arm around his waist, using his other hand to fire his sawed-off double barrel shotgun. It was a chore to reload, but it was better than leaving Dylan there. Jack removed the bar from the red door. "When I open the door, run as fast as you can towards the base! I asked them to shine a light on us! Follow that light!" Jack placed his hand on the lever. "Ready…" The infected and zombies spilled into the room through the hole, charging at the survivors.

"Now!" Jack kicked open the door and the survivors rushed outside, charging into the crowd of infected. Erin fired two submachine guns, covering whoever he could. Jack shoved back the infected and focused only on the zombies, blasting each one of them in their rotting skulls. The wind howled almost as loud as Dylan, whipping the survivors forward ten feet. Lightning crackled and trees fell, smashing infected and blocking the survivors path. The survivors quickly vaulted over the trees, each one of them skilled in free-running. They headed straight for the light, which illuminated their path in the almost total darkness of the nighttime storm. The lightning provided only split-second lighting, which also became a dangerous hazard. Because of the quick illumination, the survivors misjudged distances and crashed directly into trees and rocks, staggering backwards and almost getting caught by the horde, which followed close behind. The survivors shook it off, continuing on their way. Jack could see the infected closing in. A zombie wrapped its putrid hands around Jack's ankle and dragged him down, biting him hard in the leg. Jack yelled in pain and kicked it in the face as two more brought down Ace, then Sckuyler, then Dylan. Dylan screamed as a zombie bit his arm and leg, ripping off the soft flesh and chewing roughly. Slowly, one by one, the zombies were bringing down the survivors. The zombies began to feast, ripping off flesh and chewing it roughly before wrapping their disgusting fingers around another piece. Whoever was still standing fought back ferociously, trying to save their friends from becoming zombie food. Jack drew his 45 auto and blew back the zombies, standing up and shoving the two off Ace. He helped Ace to his feet and began tearing the zombies off of Sckuyler and Dylan, both of which had sustained major wounds. Sckuyler held her leg, unable to run. Jack slung her over his shoulder. Ace did the same to Dylan. The infected surrounded the survivors, forcing them to the edge of a cliff that seemingly appeared out of nowhere, hidden by the complete darkness until now. Jack could barely hear the roar of a waterfall over the sound of the gale and cries of the zombies. He looked over the edge and saw the waterfall break the banks and animals and infected alike were quickly swallowed by the blackness of the drink. The survivors drew their weapons and began to make their final stand, dropping the infected like flies on a bug zapper. Bullets and blood filled the air, quickly being whipped away by the wind. The smell of gunpowder filled the survivors' noses, almost as strong as the smell of rotten flesh. The smells made the survivors throw up, regurgitating their breakfast over the edge of the cliff. They staggered around, dizzy and nauseous. Sckuyler had to stop to pull her hair into a ponytail; it was obscuring her aim. Daniel stepped back and shot out his tongue, using it like a whip to push back the zombies. Jack dropped his M4 and drew his sawed-off double barrel, blasting zombies' brains out with every shot. The survivors too weak to fight fell back behind the others and began patching up their wounds, their hands shaking from the cold and the vibration of the thunder. Whole bottles of pills were downed. Adrenaline wasn't taken; the survivors already had an unlimited amount pumping through their blood and fueling their fighting spirit. Rain clogged barrels and jammed guns. Bandages grew soaking wet. Clothes became drenched and added extra weight. Whatever wasn't needed was shed. Jack flung aside his shirt and jacket and shoved his shotgun shells into his pocket instead, reloading every few seconds. Ace flung aside his own jacket and shirt and fought the zombies in nothing but a pair of cargo shorts, boots, and a tank top. Then, a problem worse than even the zombies emerged: The fatal _click, click, click._ Slowly, one by one, the survivors ran out of ammo. The continuous stream of gunfire stopped abruptly, the air sizzling from the heat of the barrels. The survivors drew their melee weapons. Erin and Joy began tearing zombies apart with their bare claws. Jack smashed in the skull of an infected, blood and bits of brain coating his bare chest. Sckuyler shoved her machete into three zombies as they struggled and screamed to their last breath. Lighting quickly brought down trees, leaving the survivors no means of escape except for the cliff. A zombie pushed Jack back and he missed his footing and fell. A hand shot out and grabbed his, pulling him back up. Ace nodded at Jack and continued chopping at the horde with his axe. Either way, the survivors knew they were overrun. Even Daniel, the Smoker who was a complete pain in the ass, picked up his baseball bat and began smacking zombies, doing anything he could to ensure he stayed alive. Jack's crowbar was pulled from his hands. Ace lost his axe to the horde. Sckuyler's katana was stuck inside a small mix of skulls. Daniel's baseball bat was pulled away by yet another Smoker. Erin and Joy fell to the floor, too tired to continue. Jack closed his eyes. They had made it so far! The base camp was just right over the cliff, almost mocking them with its light, so that the survivors wouldn't die in the dark. Roy fell down next to Jack, a large slash in his arm. Jack held out his hand. Roy took it and stood up, nodding slowly. One by one, the survivors locked hands, standing at the very edge of the cliff. The zombies scratched and screamed with pride, triumphant now that their prey had nowhere to run. Jack held Sckuyler's hand firmly. He could see tears in her eyes. "Dammit, we can't die now! We've come too far!" yelled Rex in anger, his Claymore flying right over the edge of the cliff. Ace held out his hand. Rex saw the look in his eyes and took it, standing at the edge of the cliff with his fellow survivors. Jack heard a loud thud as a Tank came barreling through the infected, swatting them aside like flies. Jack sighed and turned to Roy, smiling half-heartedly. "I always knew that it would end like this. At least we all die together, making our final stand." Roy nodded. "I'm sorry it has to end like this, Jack." Jack shook his head. "It's not over yet." Jack closed his eyes and, with that last of his strength, flung himself over the edge, taking the rest of the survivors with him. The Tank skidded to a halt and roared a roar that shook the trees, watching through his tiny eyes as his prey descended ever deeper into the blackness of the raging torrent below. No one could've survived that fall.

No one.

**A/N: "It's not over yet." -Jack Miller.**


	2. Only Juan Option

**A/N: Yup! It's not over yet! And to my RP buddies, how do ya like it so far?**

**A/N2: Sckuyler is pronounced 'Skyler'.**

**A/N3: RP people: Especially to Infected Padfoot, I'm sorry I haven't been on, but please don't let this RP die! I'm trying to get on, but the internet connection to my laptop took a shit and I can't use me desktop for at least a month, maybe shorter. Until I can get back on, try not to leave, okay?**

(~**^^Left4Dead^^**~)

The storm died down after a few hours and, just like that, the forest returned to normal, save for the blood-drenched grass and the bodies strewn among the forest floor. A single battered body floated to the bank. The waterfall pushed it onto the mud. It lay on the bank, a sorry sight indeed. It was dressed in a pair of black jeans, halfinger gloves and combat boots, completely shirtless. Its hair was matted down, covering its eyes. Twisted around its neck was a pair of silver dog tags, engraved with the name, "Captain Jack Miller".

Jack's body lay there for a while, shivering and drenched. He coughed and rose to his knees, tired, cold, and hungry. His blue lips were open, teeth chattering. He rubbed his pale skin, trying to generate warmth. He spotted another body floating in the river that he instantly realized as Sckuyler. He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her to the bank, he noticed that her white cotton t-shirt was completely see-through. He turned a bright shade of red and flipped her on her stomach. He heard a quiet moan from the river and a hand reaching out from the water. He ran over to it and pulled up his friend, Ace. Ace shivered and sat down on a rock, rubbing his bare arms. He turned towards Jack and said through chattering teeth. "A-anyone el-lse surv-vive the f-fall?"

"Only Sckuyler so far, but I'm sure the rest are okay." Jack sighed and looked for the rest of the survivors. He pulled Roy onto the bank and helped him to his feet. He nodded slowly and began helping Jack look for the others. Roy pulled Dylan from around a tree. Jack saved Daniel from drowning in the river. Daniel scowled at the waterfall and began looking for his cigarettes. After everyone was okay, Jack walked back over to Sckuyler and inspected her for wounds. He could see blood soaking through a large gash in her chest, soaking through her shirt and onto Jack's hand. Jack looked around the trees for a medpack that had possibly survived the fall. He looked for minutes and found nothing. He walked back to the bank and held his arm, which also carried a large gash. He found Ace by the rock, helping Dylan tie a bandage around his leg. "Any others left?" Ace gestured towards a small cluster of red near a tree. "Quit squirming Dylan. It's hard enough already with my hands shaking." Dylan winced in pain. "I'm sorry," he whispered, biting his tongue. "It hurts." Jack picked up a medpack and walked back over to Sckuyler. He knelt by her and pulled off her shirt. He began cleaning the wound, keeping his eyes focused on her nose the whole time. Once he began tying the bandage around her chest, he heard a footstep behind him. "Hey, what's going- oh." He turned around and saw the timid form of Dylan turn a bright red, hiding behind a tree. Jack glared at him and shook his head. "Come here, Dylan." Dylan crept forward slowly, afraid that either Jack would hit him or Sckuyler would wake up and yell at them both. Jack handed his both halves of the bandage, which had been wrapped around the top of Sckuyler's chest just below her neck. Dylan's face turned red as he found his eyes gazing downward, only to jerk back up when Jack nudged his shoulder. "Tie the bandage halves together tightly." Dylan nodded quickly and one again found his gaze drifting downwards. Jack shot him a dangerous look and he quickly focused his gaze on her nose, which twitched slightly when he tied the bandage. He saw Jack using a small gauze to disinfect infected cuts on her stomach. He eyed Jack suspiciously. "I thought you said…" Jack glared at him. He held away his hands and focused only on Jack. "It's different for you, right? After you two… you know…" Jack eyed him dangerously and Dylan scampered away, afraid he said too much. Jack finished patching up Sckuyler and helped her back into her shirt, walking back over to the rock and picking up a medpack for himself, sitting down by the rock and fixing his own wounds. Dylan watched Jack from behind the rock. "I'm sorry Jack. I just-" Jack sighed and turned towards Dylan. "It's okay, Dylan. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just… I care about her. I care about all of you. If you're hurt, I'll take care of you no matter what I have to do. You know that by now, especially after…" Dylan shuddered, remembering the incident clearly but wishing he didn't. Jack smirked at him. "Sorry about that. Still can't forget it? I don't think I will, either."

"…But do you want to?"

"Yes, very much. It gives me nightmares." Dylan sat down next to Jack. He smiled. Jack sighed. "Okay, give it up. How'd you find out about me and Sckuyler?" Dylan sighed.

"I heard you two in the closet that day. You really think it was soundproof?"

"At that particular time, I didn't really care, because-"

"Okay, okay, shut up. I don't want to hear any more." Dylan shuddered again, smiling.

"Oh, come on. If you were in the same position, you'd want to talk about it."

"With Sckuyler? How would that be possible?" Jack chuckled. "I wouldn't stop thinking about it. She likes you a lot. She sees you as… cute, I guess." Dylan blushed. "She said that about me?" Jack nodded. "You didn't hear it from me, though. Don't ruin my life."

"Oh, that'd be a real shame. I'd hate for you to stop getting laid every night."

"Shut up, it's not every night."

"How many times?"

"About three or four. I can't remember." Dylan rolled his eyes. Jack patted him on his shoulder. "Well, look at you. I guess growing up is changing you for good this time."

"Why?"

"It's called puberty. Every guy gets it eventually." Jack chuckled and turned towards Ace, who had remained hidden under a tree until now. "You can come out now, perv." Ace patted Jack on the shoulder and sat down next to him. "You okay now?" Jack nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. How's everyone else?"

"Not too good. A couple broken bones, lots of bleeding, hundreds of cuts and bruises. That little stunt you pulled coulda broke us all."

"Yeah, well, I prefer broken over dead." Jack sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter that had somehow miraculously survived the fall. He lit one and ignored the look from Ace. "Stolen from Daniel, I take it?" Jack chuckled and coughed on the smoke, his body slowly warming. "Yup. Want one?"

"Nah, I'm good. See any infected?" Jack thought a little. "One or two commons, no zombies. What's our loadout?"

"Nothing but pistols and melee survived the fall. About two or three Desert Eagles, enough 9 mils, and a few metal or strong melee weapons. Other than that, nothing."

"It's a start. Get loaded up with some ammo, a 44, and a spare medkit and wait by the bank. We're gonna go scout out, see if we can find a safehouse close to here." Ace smiled. "Gotcha. But it seriously has to be close. I don't think we can move some of the others very far." Jack nodded and walked over to the rock where Roy was laying out weapons and ammo. He nodded towards Jack but otherwise remained silent. Jack picked up a 44. Magnum and a medkit. He shoved some spare mags into his pocket and slung his crowbar over his back. He looked up and noticed Roy loaded up, too. Jack shook his head. "You stay here and guard the others. No one else can."

"You can't stop me." Jack sighed. "Fine. Ace, you stay and guard the others."

"Damn. Ah, it's okay. No one else can do it." He stayed behind and watched Jack and Roy disappear among the trees. "Be careful guys," he whispered to himself.

Jack pushed a branch out of his face. It was so quiet, every little sound he made was broadcast to the entire world. Jack shivered and wished for his warm combat jacket and shirt. He turned on the flashlight mounted on the barrel of his 44 and turned towards Roy. "See anything?"

"Nothing." Roy put away his pistol and instead drew his katana. "Wish I still had my shield." Jack coughed. "I wish, too. I wish for a plane. Get the hell out of here." Another branch smacked Jack in the face. He growled and shoved it out of the way. It whipped back and hit Roy. "Fuck," he muttered, pushing it to the side. Jack couldn't help but chuckle as he continued down the bank. After a while, the two stumbled onto a dirt road. It was minutes before Jack spoke: "Do you remember how to get back?" Roy went pale. "I thought you did." Jack facepalmed at his own stupidity. They had forgotten where they left their friends. They even forgot to point out landmarks. Even if they had, though, it still wouldn't have mattered. The forest was a maze of trees, sometimes rendering a path completely inaccessible. Not even a compass could get you out of that forest, even if you knew where to go. Jack sighed and shrugged. "Not point in going back now. Let's try to find something." They continued down the road, shaking their heads.

Meeting no infected of any kind, the two kept close together, not daring to separate in the maze of trees. After a few minutes of walking and pointing their gun barrels at the smallest noise, Roy pointed down the road. "I see a light. Looks like a cabin." Jack followed Roy's finger and confirmed his thoughts. They walked up to the house slowly, wary of any danger. It was indeed a small wooden cabin, worn down and weathered from the years. The windows had been barred and shattered, but a faint light could be seen from inside. The light Roy had seen was a spotlight mounted on the roof. Jack scanned the cabin and spotted the bright red door. "A safehouse," the two muttered simultaneously. Jack banged on the door. After a few moments, the door opened a crack and the barrel of a shotgun was shoved into Jack's face. "_Como te amos?_" asked the man on the other side of the door. Jack turned to Roy, who shrugged. "I don't speak Spanish." Jack nodded. "I got this. _Senor, si habla ingles. No habla espanol_."

"_Ingles?"_

"_Si, si. Ingles._"

"Si, I speak English. Who are you, Gringo?" Jack sighed with relief. "We mean you no harm. My name is Jack Miller, and my friend here is Roy Williams. We've come from further down the road, and we have a large group of injured people. We need help. Please, sir. Can you help us?" The door opened slowly, and the shotgun was lowered. "It is nice to see a living human again. Please, come inside and eat first. Then we will help your _amigos._" Jack nodded, smiling. "_Gracias, senor._" Jack waved to Roy. "Come on." The two ventured inside and were greeted by a middle-aged Mexican couple. The man set down his shotgun and shook Jack's hand. "My name is Juan Gonzales. This is my wife, Maria." Maria waved shyly to Jack and Roy. Jack nodded and sat down at the table. "Thank you Juan, for letting us in. For a second there, I thought you were going to shoot me." Juan chuckled. "Maybe I would've, _Gringo._ Maria, prepare these men some food. They look half-starved to death." Maria smiled and went to cook some soup. Jack took a second to look Juan over. Short black hair, tan cowboy hat, blue denim jacket, cargo pants, a white shirt, and some work boots. No moustache or beard. But even with his clean cuts, his face told his real age. Worry wrinkles on his forehead, bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. The look in his eyes told him that he had seen a lot of things that he shouldn't have. Jack looked over Maria. She seemed a little younger than Juan. She wore a jacket identical to Juan's, a brown t-shirt that had formerly been white, blue jeans, and a pair of sneakers. Her long black hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. Jack turned back to Juan. "So how did you end up here? The zombies chase you down the road?"

"Close enough. They chased us over a cliff. We walked here." Juan whistled. "I'd like to hear that story. Tell me, Jack."

"It's a long story."

"We have time."

So Jack told him everything, from the time he had met his group to the time they had made their final stand on the waterfall. At times, Juan would shake his head in disbelief. Roy would also interrupt to correct Jack or to add something to the story. When Maria brought the soup, Jack paused only to take a sip. Three hours had passed when he was done telling the story. Juan sighed. "You have been through a lot, my friend. I'm surprised you haven't gone insane. I'll tell you what. You and your friend stay here and rest. Let Maria take care of you. I know where the waterfall is. Let me take the truck and go find your friends." Jack raised an eyebrow. "A truck?" Juan smiled. "Military. I 'borrowed' it from a CEDA convoy. Big enough to hold your whole group." Jack nodded. "Okay then. You need any weapons?"

"I have my own. Just make sure to open the door for me when I get back, okay?" Juan chuckled and kissed Maria goodbye, picking up his shotgun and heading outside. Roy sighed. "He's a good man. Took us in, then offered something like this. At least someone cares about us." Jack nodded.

"Yeah. I wonder why, though."

**A/N: I'm working on the video guys, so don't ask anymore. Or don't start asking. It takes more than just one day, you know. Kick-ass intro, though.**


End file.
